Smouldering
by Salmastryon
Summary: Sometimes even little dragons need to vent.


**Disclaimer:** "_Gensomaden Saiyuki, Saiyuki: Reload, Saiyuki: Gaiden and Saiyuki_" and all of their characters were created by and belong to Kazuya Minekura. They were used without prior permission. No profit is made through this story.

**Author's Note:** A special thanks goes out to **theRhoda** for inspiring this story; the gals at ffnet Authors' Message Board for getting me back into writing and **Zelgadis55**,** OptiMoose**,** JeiC**,** Mordanae **and** Murasaki** for betaing my little story. All mistakes are mine.

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This story has been enter in the "42 days" Contest Challenge #1 at the ffnet Authors' Message Board. For those interested in the details, the board URL can be found in my bio.

Smouldering  
by  
Salmastryon

The small white dragon was flying back and forth in wandering figure eights. This was his way of pacing. While doing this, the small dragon was delivering a not so small diatribe. "They just don't appreciate me," he complained to his audience, a girl who had moments before been washing clothes. "After a long week of work all I want is a little food and rest, but no, no rest for the weary. No sooner do I settle down to sleep than that monk is firing his gun, making a big commotion, and off we go, again and again and again!!!"

The plaintive wail that rose in his voice at the contemplation of that thought caused his audience to wince.

"I know. It is terrible. I've had to cover hard, treacherous terrain for the last forty-two days, and all I want is a little rest." With each complaint, the little dragon's tail thrashed to and fro, punctuating his remarks. "I work my claws off for them, give them my all and do I get a word of thanks? No, it is always about their problems, their needs, their wants," A final wild lash of his tail and the white dragon turned to look intently at the girl. "Well, I have rights and feelings, too. When I wear my poor paws to the bone and I can't go any further, what does he do? He kicks me! Kicks me!" The dragon closes in on the girl, "Do I deserve that?" and thrusts his paws in her face for perusal. "I mean, look at my poor paws."

The girl flinched at the sight of swollen tiny white paws and claws worn almost to the quick. Long strands of brown hair fell out of a neat bun as she vigorously shook her head from side to side.

With a gentle flap of his wings, the small dragon backed away and landed on a rock, which was a more comfortable distance for conversing. Bobbing his head in agreement, he took up his venting again, "Exactly, I don't deserve to be treated like that. Especially after carting him around on my back all day, and let me tell you that is no easy task. The kid and him are constantly arguing and fighting. Do you know how many times I've been kicked or elbowed?

"Too many, I can tell you. It is abuse," the small triangular head dipped abruptly down and up in emphasis, "pure and simple, and to top it all off, there is that kid. He just scarfs everything down so fast a poor soul can barely get a bite to eat, and what he doesn't eat, the red head grabs. But, that isn't the real problem with his appetite. Sometimes he looks at me and I can see the hunger glistening in his eyes. I'm sure he would have tried to eat me that one time if the monk hadn't stopped him." At the thought of being eaten the little dragon reared angrily, flaring his wings and snapping his tail.

A gasp escaped the girl's lips, her cheeks drained of blood and her arms clasped tightly around her knees.

"Positively shocking isn't it, but they aren't the real danger. Oh no." The white dragon settled once more upon his perch, and tilted his head to confide, "One of these days, I'm sure that I'm going to be shot. That monk is constantly firing his gun into the air and at things. More than once he's come extremely close to shooting me. It is only a matter of time before he actually hits me. It's all so irritating." The small dragon flexed his claws on the rock in frustration causing a high pitched screech to fill the air. "Some days I just want to bite someone, anyone -- everyone." A clack rang out as his fanged jaws snapped in illustration.

The girl gazed at him in horror. "Please don't," she pleaded. Her knuckles whitened under the strength of her grip.

The white dragon deflated and gazed at her with a sombre stillness. "No, I wouldn't actually bite one of them. It's just...just...just so..." the small dragon let out an angered filled roar. "And, there isn't anything I can do about it. Hakkai's decided to follow Sanzo, and he's also rather fond of Gojyo and Goku; so, if I do anything to show them who's boss or hurt them, he'd be upset." The prospect of upsetting Hakkai brought a pronounced droop to the little dragon's frame. Such dismal thoughts didn't suit his disposition.

Noticing the change in atmosphere, the girl slowly relaxed one arm and extended her hand to make a shooing motion. "Go, go away," she hiccuped in obvious distress.

"Leave Hakkai!?" he squawked in horror. While the little dragon could understand her distress at hearing his story, the thought of leaving Hakkai had never crossed his mind. "I couldn't do that. After all, who would protect him if I wasn't around? He's entirely too nice and trusting, thus my current predicament. No, I'm afraid I'm stuck with the situation."

The girl's distress increased at the violent response to her actions. Not knowing what else she could do, she pulled her knees in close and huddled in a ball. A steady stream of tears fell from her sad brown eyes; sobs racked her frame.

"On no, no, no, don't cry," the little dragon exclaimed. He hopped up on to her knees, careful not to tear her green dress with his claws. "It really isn't that bad. I just had a bad week. You know how things can get you down. You don't need to cry for me." He leaned forward to lick the tears off her face.

Immediately the sobbing and shaking ceased. Frozen, she looked at him with wide eyes.

"Really, they do have their good traits. Umm..." the little dragon tilted his head back and forth as he racked his brain for good things to say. The girl's eyes moved back and forth as she followed the movement of his head.

"I got it!" the white dragon chirped excitedly. "Gojyo, he's the red head, has saved Hakkai's life on numerous occasions, and the one time I wasn't feeling well, he brought me dates." The memory caused the dragon to smack his lips hungrily. "I really do love dates.

"As for the kid, he's fun to play with when he stays away from my tail." The dragon narrowed his eyes minutely at the remembered annoyance. "So, you see it isn't all that bad," he explained happily.

The girl continued to stare at him unmoving.

"Oh right, the monk." The dragon flew in a quick loop and landed on her shoulder to speak in a hushed tone in her ear, "You want to know a secret?"

The girl started and then froze. Her eyes rolled to the side trying to guess what would come next. Her hands had turned her apron into a wrinkled mess from being clutched so tight.

"He's really a softy on the inside. He's always firing the gun off and threatening people, but he'd never actually hurt any of us. I personally think he's all teeth and no bite." The small dragon sagely nodded his head up and down as he gave the pronouncement.

In the distance a clear tenor could be heard calling, "Hakuryuu."

The dragon looked up, then, turned back to the girl. "That's Hakkai now. I've got to go, work to do and all that. Look, I really appreciate you listening to me like this. It isn't often I get to vent my problems. Most people don't even listen to me when I talk to them. It means a lot to me. If you ever need help or something just send me a message."

With that parting comment, the little white dragon launched himself into the air, did a series of loops and waved his tail in farewell at the girl. When he cleared the girl's view, she collapsed bonelessly to the ground, the sounds of his cries echoing in her ears. She lay there, her washing board and clothes forgotten, as she attempted to process the encounter she'd just experienced.

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Questions? Comments? Ventings? 


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